


Chrysalis

by VonVici



Series: Lights Will Guide You Home [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Clark Kent Needs A Hug, Drama, Lots of Angst, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, hugs are nice, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-16 09:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VonVici/pseuds/VonVici
Summary: It had been about 8 years since the Wayne's death, and 8 hard years of Alfred trying to help young master Bruce. For 8 years Bruce has known this, finally sympathizing with the man he decides to give coming out of his cocoon to the world a shot.Bruce dreads the idea, however he appreciates the fact Alfred is letting him go at his own pace. He decides on starting off with a pen pal. A country bumpkin named Clark Kent being that said pen pal, and eventually his best friend, his secret crush...And, his worst enemy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A, before Bruce becomes Batman and Clark becomes Superman, highschool!AU where Bruce and Clark first meet through a pen pal program and eventually meet in real life when Bruce decides to go to his school.

 

Bruce sighed deeply, ignoring Alfred as he walked down the hall to his bedroom. He ignored the closed off door that had once been his father’s office, a slight feeling of sadness overwhelming him. Bruce snapped his head to the side, pursing his lips together.

The older man followed closely behind him, his eyebrows knit in concern for his young master, and honestly with a tinge of annoyance. He pursed his lips as Bruce halted and turned on his heel.

The young boy, almost 16 years old gave him an annoyed glare. “Alfred please.” He said exasperated. “I completely understand your concern for me. But I’m fine!”

Alfred pursed his lips. “Master Wayne, I am simply suggesting you need to go out there and have fun. Make some friends.” He stared back down at Bruce. “Instead of being holed up in that room of yours as you have done for years.”

“I have friends.” Bruce crossed his arms. “You’re my friend, and you’re all I need.”

Alfred paused at those words and studied the young man before him. His eyes spoke volumes. They were worn down, dark circles had formed around his eyes from the nights of lack less sleep. They didn't have the twinkle that youth should have.

The butler gave Bruce a sad smile. “Yes, I am your friend Master Bruce. And that is why I insist on this. You need friends that are your age.” He placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

Bruce thought about his words for a moment and frowned. “I don’t see how that is so important. Besides…” He trailed off. “I’m not like kids my age. I won’t be able to get along with them.” He looked down. “I don’t need them.”

Alfred’s mouth curved into a frown. He had tried almost everything to help his young master, but nothing seemed to work. Sending him to therapists didn’t seem to help as the boy refused to talk about the root of his problems; his parent’s death. The young boy was traumatized by the experience and had caved in on himself since then.

Now was where that invisible line was drawn. Alfred had to get Bruce to get back out there.

“It is important because…” Alfred paused, debating if he should bring up the topic of death, knowing it to be a sensitive issue. He pursed his lips in displeasure. “I will not always be here master Bruce.”

Bruce looked up at the man, his eyes round.

“And when you are older, you will take up your family’s legacy yes?”

Bruce frowned, nodding.

“Then you need to learn how to talk to people. Staying inside the manor won’t help you learn how to socialize.” Alfred stared at him, hoping Bruce would understand.

The boy stayed silent for a moment, then met Alfred’s eyes and nodded slowly. “Yes. Those are good points…” He trailed off.

“We will start this process slowly.” The older man gave Bruce a small smile. “At your own rate.”

Bruce looked up at Alfred, there was a slight pause before he returned the smile. “Alright…” He inhaled deeply. “I have an idea then.”

 

_Dear Bruce,_

_Hello there! My names Clark, nice to meet you. Or... well write to you. I live in Smallville, Kansas, a small farming community that I live on with my Ma and Pa. I have my fair share of chores on the farm, helping out with simple things like collecting eggs or milking the cows._

_I’m 15 years old, in grade 10 at Smallville High. I have two friends named Pete and Lana. Pete and I are on the football team at school. Though I’m not the best, it’s pretty fun. Especially when goofing off with friends._

_Other than football I have a slight interest in writing and have joined the school paper. I write a few columns about events like the games and other important things like school events._

_What do you do in Gotham? What are your hobbies? Do you play any sports?  I look to our future conversations_

_Your pen pal,_

_Clark Kent :)_

 

Bruce glared angrily at the piece of paper laid out before him, as if he had laser vision to disintegrate the sheet. He let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his chair.

Though it had been Alfred’s idea for him to ‘socialize’ it was his own idea to first become pen pals. Bruce had found a website that had a pen pal program that would connect people from around the globe. He thought it would be much easier to deal with since there would be no face to face conversation. It would be too soon to do as he had only spoken to Alfred since then. The thought itself made Bruce feel awkward, which he didn’t want to have to deal with.

Bruce had also decided that it would be best to establish contact with someone from a place that wouldn’t have even known his name.

He settled on a small town in Kansas called Smallville. Bruce doubted the Wayne name would be that well known there, especially since he hasn’t made many public appearances since his parents death. Everything was handled by the board and by Lucius Fox. Besides, how could a child help in a $11.6 billion company? A maniac that is.

Though as a precaution to protecting his identity he had given himself an alias to go by and have the letter mailed and sent from a post office in Gotham.

He stood up and groaned, stretching his back until he heard the satisfying crack of his spine. He turned on his heel and snatched the letter from his desk and took one large step forward. Then another. Then another as his leg hit the edge of the bed.

Crumpled up pieces of paper were scattered across the carpets, thrown out of anger. Bruce couldn’t figure out how to continue the conversation, and his letter was quite overdue by at least a week. That frustrated Bruce, the fact that it was overdue. It in no way helped him get inspiration.

He fell face forward onto the linen sheets of his bed, holding up the piece of paper as he descended to avoid it from getting destroyed.

Bruce lifted up his head, resting his chin on a pillow which put his head at an L angle. He pursed his lips together, eyes skimming the lines of the page.

From what he could tell this “Clark Kent” was a light hearted and laid back kind of guy by way he wrote. It wasn’t anything too formal that would indicate that this was all business, instead it was easy going showing his intention of wanting to befriend Bruce. The smiley face also helped with that fact.

He sighed and slid off the bed and laid the piece of paper back down. Grabbing a pen off to the side he clicked it a few times and finally put the tip of the pen against the blank sheet. Bruce honestly felt bad for all the trees he was killing.

 

_Dear Clark,_

_Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with_

 

Bruce paused and pursed his lips, realizing something crucial. If he was going to be someone else, he couldn’t exactly talk about his life story. He would need to come up with something. Bruce decided it was best to half-lie and half- tell the truth.

 

_Dear Clark,_

_Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with my father._

 

It wasn’t a flat out lie, he did view Alfred as his father.

 

_Dear Clark,_

_Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with my father. On a normal day I wake up and eat some breakfast. I then go to school…_

_Unlike you though, I’m home schooled. So I don’t necessarily go anywhere...I just stay home. My father teaches me everything I need to know for my age level (15), which is all the things you know as well._

 

He wiggled the pen in the air, humming a bit to himself in thought. Bruce glanced back at the Clark’s letter to get some reference point. He was glad he wasn’t the one to initiate it.

 

_Dear Clark,_

_Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with my father. On a normal day I wake up and eat some breakfast. I then go to school…_

_Unlike you though, I’m home schooled. So I don’t necessarily go anywhere...I just stay home. My father teaches me everything I need to know for my age level (15), which is all the things you know as well._

_I’m mostly by mysel_

 

He stopped and grabbed a white out from a little black bin on his desk. He smeared it on the last sentence and waited for it to dry. Although it was true and the only reason he was doing this, Bruce didn’t want to sound like a complete loner. After all Clark had discussed things about his friends, he thought he should do the same.

 

_Dear Clark,_

_Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with my father. On a normal day I wake up and eat some breakfast. I then go to school…_

_Unlike you though, I’m home schooled. So I don’t necessarily go anywhere...I just stay home. My father teaches me everything I need to know for my age level (15), which is all the things you know as well._

_I’m friends with some of the neighborhood kids like Harvey. We hang out every so often when he isn’t busy with school stuff._

 

He stared at the letter. This was not a half-lie but an entire lie. Though Bruce being friends with Harvey was not, he had not hung out with him for years when he started to cave in on himself. Bruce sighed and glanced off to the window on his right. He missed Harvey. Perhaps after this he could go over and visit.

Bruce grew fond of the idea until he realized how awkward that would be. He chewed on the bottom of his lip and focused back on the paper. He would think about Harvey another time.

  


_Dear Clark,_

_Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with my father. On a normal day I wake up and eat some breakfast. I then go to school…_

_Unlike you though, I’m home schooled. So I don’t necessarily go anywhere...I just stay home. My father teaches me everything I need to know for my age level (15), which is all the things you know as well._

_I’m friends with some of the neighborhood kids like Harvey. We hang out every so often when he isn’t busy with school stuff._

_I enjoy watching cartoons, my favorite one is Grey Ghost and in most of my free time I like to read._

_I don’t really play sports since I’m stuck at home but football seems like an interesting sport. Though not specifically what I would play since it looks really, really painful._

_What are your favorite cartoons and books?_

 

Bruce stared at the letter, re-reading it over and over again. He didn’t want to seem uptight, he wanted the words to flow out casually. Bruce inhaled deeply and set it down. Finally he decided that it was good enough to be sent and signed off.

 

_Dear Clark,_

_Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with my father. On a normal day I wake up and eat some breakfast. I then go to school…_

_Unlike you though, I’m home schooled. So I don’t necessarily go anywhere...I just stay home. My father teaches me everything I need to know for my age level(15), which is the around the same as you._

_I’m friends with some of the neighborhood kids like Harvey. We hang out every so often when he isn’t busy with school stuff._

_I enjoy watching cartoons, my favorite one is Grey Ghost and in most of my free time I like to read._

_I don’t really play sports since I’m stuck at home but football seems like an interesting sport. Though not specifically what I would play since it looks really, really painful._

_What are your favorite cartoons and books?_

_From,  Bruce Kane_

He grabbed the blue tinted white envelope next to his pen and opened it up. Bruce reached for the letter, about to fold it and paused. He took the pen. 

_From,  Bruce Kane :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey guys! Thank you so much for reading and leaving some very supporting comments on my first chapter! I'm sorry for the delay, unfortunately I was cursed with some writer's block and had a psych exam. I'll try to update every week on Monday.

 

Everyday was the same routine. Wake up from the blaring alarm on his phone and then lie back down, swearing it’s just for a few more minutes. In those wonderful 10 minutes sleep takes a hold of him, until the alarm rings again to prevent him from falling asleep. This repeats for a good 7 times. 

In these moments Clark Kent hates living on a farm. He wakes up too early to go collect the eggs for breakfast, feed the livestock, and do a head count.  All he wants to do is sleep like any normal teenager. To sleep forever...However that would mean death, so Clark dismisses the idea as he rolls out of bed with his eyes shut. He opened the curtains in the room, allowing the sun’s rays to drown his room in their light. 

Clark groans, letting the light bath on him. He always felt more energized whenever the sun would shine on him, and sat himself down on the ground, closing his eyes. Clark stayed like that for a few more minutes, taking in its energy. This was a part of his morning ritual. 

After a while, he got up and left his room, walking downstairs and past the kitchen and living room. He grabbed his big blue coat that hung off  the hook, slipping into it as he stepped out of his slippers and into a pair of worn out shoes. 

Clark walked out the door and towards the barn, grabbing a heavy mixture of corn, oats, soybeans and dried alfalfa that's off to the side. Clark hoists it onto his shoulder and picks up a bag of freshly picked blueberries, walking over to the pen of chickens.

“Wakie wakie.” He called out, walking over and sliding the little door up. Clark took a few steps off to the side as a few hens poked their heads out to the side and came out of hiding to meet with him. They seemed very excited, walking right up to him. Clark was greeted with a few clucks, and returned the greeting with a smile and chuckle. “Good morning ladies.” 

The ladies as Clark calls them, or the dames started to roam around the little area they were in. He grabbed a handful of the mix and tossing it at them, the hens excitedly going wherever the food rained down. “It’s the start of another beautiful day” He smiled and looked up at the sun, his eyes narrowing and eyebrows forming a V. 

He glanced back down to watch them peck at the food and spotted a familiar red mohawked rooster off to the side. The rooster circled around the hens like a manager making rounds to make sure everything was alright. 

“Wow, you’re such a gentleman Cluck Norris.” Clark chuckled, a smile spreading on his lips. 

Clark looked back at the hens who were pulling back, giving room for Cluck as they finished and went off to do whatever hens do in their time. Reaching into the bag of feed, Clark tossed some more as the rooster made his way over. 

 

Clark bent over and collected a couple of eggs from the nests, holding at least 3 in one hand. He sighed amusingly.  As much as Cluck Norris was a gentleman, when it came to his favorite treat, blueberries, all hell would break loose. That gentlemen facade was wiped away, with Cluck going through the hens like a bowling ball through pins. 

Even now  he had to flee once Cluck Norris was done his share of blueberries and started to eye the bag Clark was holding. It was an experience to be chased by a blueberry crazed rooster, and an even better one to see a teenage boy screaming a bit as a rooster flaps its wings wildly around.

Last time he lingered too long talking with the hens the rooster snuck up on him, and started to chase him around. In all that commotion he accidently let some of the blueberries fall out. This made Cluck very happy, while Clark placed his hands on his hips and shook his head in disappoint. 

Yet somehow, in these moments, Clark is content with living on a farm. He loves the dames and of course Cluck, along with Betsy the cow. It was all Clark knew. He was raised on the Kent farm and watched the animals grow alongside him and saw the farm evolve. The farm held a special place in his heart, and he wouldn’t trade it in for the world. Everything here was his family. 

It was also moments like these that helped Clark decide to join the pen pal program. Clark believed he was lucky to be raised with such caring and amazing parent and friends. He knew that not everyone in the world was as privileged as he was. Clark liked to think he had a mission; a mission to spread his sunshine through his words. It seemed like the pen pal program was created for him.

Immediately upon discovering the pen pal program it didn’t take long until he was assigned to someone. His pen pal was a kid the same age as him, Bruce Kane. Bruce lived in Gotham, New Jersey, a eastern coast city known as a haven for crime. However it was more known for its poverty, and the corruption of its government than anything else. 

Though it may have been unfair of Clark to assume, he presumed that Bruce was from the slums. It would make the most sense in his opinion. Someone in the slums would for sure need a friend, and maybe a little escape from darkness of the city. However Clark knew assuming wasn’t exactly a good thing to do, and would just have to discover the truth through the letters exchanged between him and Bruce.   
It had started out well. Clark was very excited when writing the letter, writing what he deemed appropriate and would be a good way to introduce himself. He licked the seal and closed it, choosing a nice stamp of a sun setting on a field of wheat and sent it over. 

However over time he felt a bit concerned. It had been almost 2 weeks since he sent out his letter to Gotham. Of course he had to consider mailing time. Clark looked into it and approximately the letter would take at least 2 to 3  days from Kansas to New Jersey and back. The letter he mailed on Monday, would have arrived in Gotham by Tuesday or Wednesday. This would mean the letter would have been in Clark’s hands at least by Saturday or Sunday. So the time between replies would be at least 6 or 7 days. 

He also considered how long it would take him to reply back. Maybe give or take a day to think of a reply. If that had been the case that would at at least an extra day or two it would have been 8 to 9 days. 

It had been 4 more days then he anticipated. Clark wondered if maybe the letter had gotten lost in the mail, which would explain the lack of response. Then he worried if Bruce might be thinking  he didn’t send him a letter. He didn’t want Bruce to ever think that he forgot about him. The image of a boy walking everyday to his mail post and not finding anything for himself dampened his mood. It simply ate at his entire being. 

Clark frowned, sighing deeply. He walked across the field,  back over to the modest little house they lived in. He dropped by the mailbox, opening the lid and peeking in, hoping to see a white envelope. Much to his dismay there was no such thing inside. Clark sighed again, starting up the stairs that creaked with the slightest amount of weight. He opened the screen door, pulling it open and walked inside. 

“Good morning Clark.” Called his mother’s voice from the kitchen. He could tell by the tone of her voice that she was having an already wonderful day. 

“Morning ma!” Clark called out, stepping out of his shoes and hanging his coat up. He walked over to the kitchen, spotting his mother flipping a few pancakes. Clark smiled slightly, going over and putting a hand on her shoulder, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

Martha smiled and tilted her head a bit to look at Clark. She gently patted her cheek. “Did you bring the eggs?”

Clark nodded and pulled away, setting the 3 eggs down on the counter. “Of course I did ma.”

Martha smiled, flipping the pancakes and making sure that the pancakes were golden brown with the edges crispy, just the way Clark likes it. Clark hands over a plate, smiling a bit as Martha places the perfect pancakes onto it. As a finishing touch she places sliced strawberries on top. 

“Thank you.” Clark says and sets the plate down, grabbing a bottle of maple syrup and some butter. He pulls the chair out and slides into it while drowning the pancake in the syrup. Clark slices into them, sighing a bit to himself. 

“You seem a bit bothered Clark. What’s wrong honey?” Martha comments. “Did Cluck chase you around again?” 

He lets out a small chuckle. “Cluck chases me every morning ma.”

“That’s good for you. Getting some cardio into your everyday routine.” 

“Ma.” Clark laughs a bit, digging the knife into the stack of pancakes. “I’m on the football team. That’s enough cardio.”

Martha nodded. “I suppose.” She glanced over her shoulder and looked at her son. “Now tell me. What’s on your mind.” 

Clark sighs, pursing his lips. “I was just thinking about the letter. I haven’t gotten one yet ma.” He raises the fork up to his mouth and bites off the slice of pancake. “I’m just a bit worried.”

Martha blinks a few times and smiles. “You don’t need to worry anymore Clark.” Clark lifts his head, mid-bite of another piece of pancake and raised an eyebrow. Martha looks over at him “The letter came in this morning. Pa put it on your desk before he left to milk the cows.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and his lips spread into a wide grin. “It did?! Ma why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?” Clark practically jumps up. He picks up a napkin, wiping the syrup that dripped down from his lips. 

His mother chuckled, turning and setting down a plate of sunny side up eggs next to him. “Well I wanted it to be a nice surprise for you when you would go upstairs.”

Clark nods and smiles. “Well, I’m glad you ruined the surprise.” He stands up, pushing the chair back with his legs and nearly knocking it back against the ground. He races around the corner and up the stairs, skipping one stair each time as Martha sighs, smiling and shaking her head. 

Clark pushes the door to his bedroom open, practically tripping as his socks slide him across the floor. He lets out a small yelp of surprise and grabs onto his chair on the left,  regaining his balance. He grins, pulling the chair out and sitting down, staring at the white envelope scrawled with Bruce’s writing. 

He stares at it for a good few minutes and then takes it carefully with his hand. He takes in a deep breath a opens the envelope and extracts the letter. He smiled, unfolding it four times and then laying it on the table. Clark leans a bit forward, leaning his chin on the palm of his hand as he reads. 

 

_ Dear Clark, _

_ Hello, nice to meet you...Or write to you as well. As you know I live in Gotham with my father. On a normal day I wake up and eat some breakfast. I then go to school… _

_ Unlike you though, I’m homeschooled. So I don’t necessarily go anywhere...I just stay home. My father teaches me everything I need to know for my age level(15), which is the around the same as you.  _

_ I’m friends with some of the neighborhood kids like Harvey. We hang out every so often when he isn’t busy with school stuff. _

_ I enjoy watching cartoons, my favorite one is Grey Ghost and in most of my free time I like to read.  _

_ I don’t really play sports since I’m stuck at home but football seems like an interesting sport. Though not specifically what I would play since it looks really, really painful.  _

_ What are your favorite cartoons and books? _

_ From, _

_ Bruce Kane :) _

 

Clark smiles at the letter before him. Scanning it over Clark comes to a conclusion. Bruce was doing this pen pal program to extend his social circle. Being homeschooled wouldn’t really provide the opportunity to spend time with other kids, and now it all made sense. Although Clark has heard many things about homeschooled kids, like how they’re crazy and very antisocial, Clark was very honored to be the one helping him. After all, they were just rumors and stereotypes. 

He also concludes that maybe his letter wasn’t lost in the mail, that maybe Bruce might have struggled with writing the letter. However Clark doesn’t really mind or care. All that matters is that he got one back. 

While reading the rest of the letter he laughs a bit at Bruce’s comment, about how painful football is. Getting toppled over and rammed into was certainly ‘really, really painful’ as Bruce had stated.

He finishes reading the letter. For a moment Clark stares at the smiley face by Bruce’s name and reflects it, feeling somewhat comforted and happy by the small gesture.  He sighs happily and finds a blank sheet of paper laid out among his things and grabs a pen, clicking it and setting it down onto the paper. Clark believes that he and Bruce will get along.

 

_ Dear Bruce, _

 

He starts it off, pausing when the sound of his mother's voice breaks through his thoughts.“Clark get ready for school! The bus will be here soon!” She calls out.

Clark now has something else to worry about other then the letter. The fact that he might be late for school. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first ever fanfic and it's been such a long time since I've written anything. I would love love lovee any feedback on the writing and characters to make this better.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
